


the pursued and the pursuit

by laddybants



Category: Macbeth - Shakespeare
Genre: F/M, LOTS of flashbacks thats how i do songfics babey, Songfic, it has banquo's death at the end? so yeah take from that what you will, someone on discord said this was 'raw' and that it made them cry so enjoy!!!! haha!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21632743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laddybants/pseuds/laddybants
Summary: it's those who have done nothing wrong that have the most to fear
Relationships: Banquo (Macbeth)/Macbeth
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	the pursued and the pursuit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ancientcitylullaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancientcitylullaby/gifts).



> i am SO sorry that this is a songfic and not an 'actual' fic or anything but in my defence 1) have you ever written a songfic? they're the most fun thing EVER 2) i've thought this song was a macbanquo song for forever 3) i wrote this in one evening because i was overcome with the urge to do that
> 
> this is to somewhere only we know but the lily allen version specifically because, if you couldn't tell from the 'everything about me', i'm british and i was reborn when i saw that john lewis christmas ad (if you're british you know the one!!!! if you're not then suffer ig)
> 
> if there are issues with formatting please lmk bc ao3 killed the formatting when i tried to upload this and i had to spend five minutes fixing it
> 
> anyway!!!!! obnoxious author's note part 1 over!! enjoy!!!

_I walked across an empty land_

The sky and the forest both are fertile. The clouds hang heavy with rain and inch ever closer to the path, smearing the hues of the evening with grey. If they open, the floor of the forest will churn like rotting flesh and the two people walking across it will be drenched. Their cloaks will cling to their limbs as they hurry away from a friend and into the broken mouth of the trees.

_I knew the pathway like the back of my hand_

It was not the first time Banquo had journeyed through these woods with Macbeth in pursuit. Many times, when they were both boys, they’d chased each other through the trees, further and further away from the prying eyes of their fathers as they got older and longed for escape. He was longing for escape now, but it was a very different kind.

_I felt the earth beneath my feet_

“Get off me!” shrieked a younger Banquo, knocked over and held down by his friend. Beth grinned, defiant. He’d knocked out a tooth a few weeks ago, and the gum was still tender at the front of his mouth. He scrambled to his feet and ran off, disturbing the leaves and trailing dirt in his wake. Banquo smiled at his friend, then sighed. He was starting to feel weird lately about… some things. 

_Sat by the river and it made me complete_

The boy pulls on his father’s hand. He looks down at his son, sees eyes pooling with worry. It’s almost too dark to see by now, and the boy’s tired. They left the horses – they’d only draw suspicion – and they’ve been walking for a little over an hour. Banquo can hear the river falling over itself in parallel with them. As long as they don’t lose it, they can’t lose their way or their selves.

_Oh simple thing, where have you gone?_

A boy of sixteen stood in front of him, muddy from head to foot and smiling like he’d won the world in battle. The other boy grunted and got up, told him Macbeth he’d been a good sport, but Bethad had eyes only for him.

_I'm getting tired and I need someone to rely on_

He strikes up a torch. It’ll make them much, much easier to find, but if his friend is still the same man, Banquo has nothing to fear. Of course, he thinks, if he had nothing to fear he wouldn’t be fleeing the country with his son.

_I came across a fallen tree_

He showed Beth everything about Lochaber. Took him by the hand – the hand! – and led him through forest after forest with every visit. Here is where an oak, the oldest ones he’s ever known, was felled in the storm last night. Last night, when I came into your room because I was terrified of the thunder, last night when you held me close and told me not to fear, last night when I traced the freckles on your hand that only appear in summer. He didn’t say any of this, but it hung between them. The trunk of the tree severed them at the heart, lying cleanly through the gap, slowly being eaten by the earth.

_I felt the branches of it looking at me_

Banquo tried to look at Beth, but every time he tried he was too afraid. He focused on the ground, green leaves pulled free, branches that tangle like hair pulled by the hands of another boy. If only.

_Is this the place we used to love?_

The forest looms new and strange tonight, as if two boys hadn’t fled their duties here for many summer afternoons in years gone by.

_Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?_

When Beth laughed full at him from across a table, Banquo almost kissed him every time. The people would see, and talk, but it would be worth it just to know what it’s like. He was a man and he’d never kissed anyone, never really wanted to kiss anyone before Beth and especially not after. Bethad came into his life on the wind of youth, tore up everything Banquo knew and left him ruined and wanting. 

_Oh simple thing, where have you gone?_

Banquo stood at Beth’s wedding, watching, and thought of his own empty home and his own desires. Beth pulled his wife in, whispered something, kissed her, and all Banquo could do was watch. 

_I'm getting old and I need something to rely on_

He wins in the end, pulling a child through patternless trees. Fleance clings onto him for dear life. His legs are shorter, but one day he’ll grow to be taller than his father, Banquo’s sure of it. A son that trusts you and a peaceful conscience. Why, he thinks, that’s more than Macbeth can say he has. 

_And if you have a minute, why don't we go_

He came up to Macbeth, half-sobbing and tripping over his words. “Do you want to talk about it somewhere private?” Beth asked. Banquo nodded and let Beth pull him through the castle by the hand and into the gardens. It was the cusp of spring. Beth’s wife was expecting. Banquo was an adult. He shouldn’t have needed to do this, but he did, and so there they were. 

_Talk about it somewhere only we know?_

Beth held his hand with all the care of a man who will soon be a father. He smiled softly at Banquo, the kind that was reserved for him only. “What is it?” 

_This could be the end of everything_

Banquo trusted his friend, he really did. He more than trusted him – he longed to be near him at all times, ached for the feel of Beth’s fingers on his skin. He couldn’t ruin what they had, but he couldn’t live without something more. 

_So why don't we go_

His voice failed him. Banquo tried to tell him, he really did, but Beth had looked down at him, concern overflowing, and he couldn’t do it. He looked at the barren bushes around them, felt the crisp morning glow invade his lungs, saw the first flowers of spring beginning to unfold at the edges of the garden. 

_Somewhere only we know_

“What I’m trying to say is –” He began, and then abandoned the idea of speaking and instead pulled his hands free from Beth’s and held onto his face instead. Banquo pulled him in and kissed him in full view of the snowdrops. 

_Somewhere only we know_

And ten years of wanting more burst forth from the earth of their minds. And both men held on to each other. And they kissed and they kissed and they kissed. 

_Oh simple thing, where have you gone?_

Too many years have elapsed since, and they’ve fallen into this routine of hiding. Stolen kisses and pulling out of view far too fast. Banquo’s breath hitches when he thinks about it, but he never thought the hiding would extend to him. 

_I'm getting old and I need someone to rely on_

He keeps moving, keeps pulling his son through the forest, keeps fleeing his friend. Child to man, it never changes. He’s always hiding and always wanting to be let in. 

_So tell me when you're gonna let me in_

Beth hadn’t looked him in the eyes that night, and Banquo knows him well enough. 

_I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin_

Just a little further, and they’ll be closer to safe. Please, just walk a little further, he pleads of Fleance. And because Fleance is a good, scared boy, he nods and follows into the night. 

_And if you have a minute, why don't we go_

He doesn’t hear anything at first. Why would he? He should have nothing to fear. 

_Talk about it somewhere only we know?_

Banquo looks up, fearful, at the clouds. Or maybe he’s looking past them. If he dies tonight, if his friend did kill the king and now wants to kill him, where will he go? Will he be allowed up past the clouds? 

_'Cause this could be the end of everything_

The voice, and then a burst of pain, white flowers exploding from his temples. His voice pulls free, a loose thread, a lifeline. Fleance, go. Fly, my boy. 

_So why don't we go_

It doesn’t take much to know who sent these men. Even through the blood he can’t blink out of his eyes, even when air feels raw entering through a gash in his throat, he knows it was Macbeth. He thinks of him; his hair, his hands, his eyes. His smile, for so long the only part of him Banquo had. 

_Somewhere only we know_

Will Macbeth cry for him? Banquo tells himself he will, even as his falls to his knees in the mud, but deep down, with blows landing on his chest, he knows his Bethad won’t. He’s too far gone. The man he knew would never do anything like this. The man he loved was kind and clever and gentle. And yet – 

_Somewhere only we know_

Banquo still loves him. 

**Author's Note:**

> idk if you can tell that i don't stan macbeth or not but in case it isn't obvious: play macbeth is a bad bad man for killing people and banquo deserved better 
> 
> (pre-play macbeth is a kind baby and i love him)
> 
> hmu on tumblr if you want! I'm very gentle and enthusiastic, like a somewhat nervous dog! @damienhirstsdiamondskull
> 
> also comment/kudos if you wanna but also you don't have to if you don't
> 
> obnoxious author's note part 2 over!! have a good morning/afternoon/post-3am (yeah i see you)


End file.
